a sermon based on Mark 10:2-16
Rev. Randy Quinn
In the summer of 1985, I was a
newly ordained Deacon in the United Methodist Church, living in a part of the
world I’d never seen before; doing things I’d never done before. That
summer, for instance, I found myself consecrating the elements for my “first
communion.” That summer I also conducted my first funeral. And then
on August 31, I “did” my first wedding.
Larry and Mary were married in a
small building that couldn’t possibly hold more than 50 people – well, maybe 100
if you opened the doors to the fellowship hall and put out enough chairs, but
there weren’t that many chairs in the building!
Every person who attended the
wedding was a family member – except the pianist, who was a High School student
from one of the other churches I was serving at the time. Some were family
of the bride, some were family of the groom, including children and
grandchildren from previous marriages.
It was my first wedding; it was
his fifth and her fourth. They had seven previous marriages between them
that all ended in divorce.
They knew more about weddings than
I did, and I found myself learning from them. But while I hadn’t even met
Ronda yet, I was convinced I knew more about marriage than they did, and I like
to think they learned from me.
After that first experience, I
started telling couples “I don’t do weddings. I help start marriages.”
. . .
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